


The Queen

by dannyel2017



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2018-12-30 19:08:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12115272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannyel2017/pseuds/dannyel2017
Summary: Margaery Tyrell manages to escape the burning of The Sept of Baelor due to help from an unknow source and is transported in secrecy to Highgarden. At the same time, King's Landing lies under the siege of Robb Stark, King in the North, Vale and Riverlands and newest claimant to the Iron Throne. What will faith have in store for the former queen and her family?





	1. A Black Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone :) This is my first work ever and I hope you like it. I'm a big fan of House Tyrell and I thought writing fiction where they are part of the main characters would be fun. Looking forward to your thoughts and criticism ;)

‘Father is dead. Mother is dead. Loras is dead. Tommen is dead.’

The Rose of Highgarden sat idle on her large bed while she ate some grape. Her chambers were much nicer there, at home compared to those from Maegor’s Holdfast where she used to reside during her time as Queen to both Joffrey and Tommen. The air was cleaner too; the disgusting smell of rot and shit being replaced with that of perfumed southern flowers. However, the feeling of dread King’s Landing possessed had already sunk into her hearth.

Margaery’s body was covered in a black dress made of silk, symbol of her mourning. In truth, the girl had wondered if her attire was for appearances sake; for she was not able to shed a single tear as she attempted to cope with the recent events. The daughter of Mace Tyrell, the late Lord Protector of the Reach, had formed a mask during her time as Queen, one that she no longer could wear off or mold after her own desires. A look of sternness was now on her still pretty face as she recalled how fate brought her in her current position; three times widow and orphan.

At only 18, Margaery had been married three times. Her first husband, Renly Baratheron, was 12 years her senior when their wedding ceremony had taken place two years ago and was the youngest brother to the late king Robert. He was a lean man of middle height with brown eyes and chocolate hair, charismatic and quite comely. Kind and thoughtful, Renly was the first and probably only man that filled Margaery’s body with sexual desire. She’d learned from her mother and grandmother that as wife she had one most important duty – to gift her husband with heirs; multiple and preferably male.

A sad smile formed on the girl’s face as she remembered the man… and her foolishness as a girl of only six and ten. Surely, the Gods would gift her with a nice, handsome husband who would treat her well; only had he been interested in her… or any woman for that matter. The affair between Loras and Renly had left her dumbstruck and for a moment she’d felt filled with rage, dissapointment and jealousy. Only for a moment, until her grandmother assured her that it was for the better to have a man who didn’t love her but held her in high regard and treated her with respect than a drunk fool who would bring harm upon her.

For a little… Margaery felt contentment with her situation, as odd and slighty embarrassing the whole thing was; until the Gods decided to take him away. She remembered crying when her husband was found dead in his own tent. She didn’t love him as her brother did and their marriage was largely based on an alliance that would situate House Tyrell closer to The Throne rather than love or lust, yet that unfortunate event saddened her deeply at that moment. Her husband had died, yet her house’s ambitions and hers had not. She was to be queen and nothing would stop her.

The first son of Cersei Lannister was rather…an improper match for her. And even for the realm itself,for the small folk couldn’t have survived under the rule of another mad king. Still, Margaery was ready to do her duty and serve her house. Her grandmother, however, couldn’t let her only grand-daughter in the arms of such a monster and had ‘solved’ herself what she thought to be a problem. 

Without even realizing, Margaery had become betrothed to Tommen, a sweet boy of barely three and ten who worshiped her and treated her kindly. As sweet as he was, he was easily manipulated, which proved in the end to be more of an issue than an advantage. His mad mother, Cersei, filled with rage and jealousy, had thrown not only her and Loras in the hands of The Faith but the whole King’s Landing. The sheer stupidty that the Lioness presented had left Margaery in awe. How could anyone in the right minds leave a dubious organization as the one lead by The High Sparrow himself gain so much power was beyond her; the only explanation bein madness enriched by stupid counselors and probably too much wine.

Yet only madness wasn’t enough to lead to the events that followed. The girl’s failure of imagination with regards to what the queen mother would be willing to do had almost cost her her life if it hadn’t been for her mysterious savior. Never could the Rose of Highgarden believe someone had in them that much cruelty to burn almost half of a city.

‘I should’ve seen it sooner. I’m supposed to be dead yet here I am safe while most of my family burned alive.’ The chestnut haired girl was angry and blamed herself, had she not neglected Cersei while trying to play The High Septon, maybe she would’ve been able to prevent the horrible events that just occurred.

As she took another grape from the silver plate a handmaid rushed to announce she had a visitor. The serving girl opened the door and let herself out before Margaery could even gasp as she saw who sat in front of her. Tall, lean and more broadly shouldered than she remembered him, Garlan Tyrell was now a man in his prime and not a lad of seven and ten who ran away from marriage a decade ago, sealing to Essos. His strong arms brought her delicate body tightly near his chest in a powerful embrace.

“Marge.. I’m sorry I wasn’t any faster. If only.. maybe father, mother and Loras would be with us.” Said her brother as he released her from his embrace, while a single tear found its way down on his slightly tanned face.

“So it was you who managed to save me?” asked the Rose of Highgarden.

“One of my entrusted men. Only he wasn’t fast enough…” responded Garlan with a hint of bitterness and regret on his tongue.

“What has happened cannot be changed, dear brother. You did what you could and what you did is something I’ll never be able to thank you enough or repay you for your efforts”

“Silly girl! We are family and we look after each other. You repay me by being alive, for we and grandmother are the only one of importance left of our house”

“You’ve spoken with grandmother?!” inquired his sister in a calm and composed voice.

“Walk with me outside, dear sister, for we have much to discuss.” Demanded Garlan as he offered his hand to help her.

********************************************************

The gardens of Highgarden were really a wonder to behold. Flowers of all types and trees of the South keept the air fresh and nice while butterflies with a most interesting colouring and sometimes small bees flew freely all around. In a spot safe from the brightness and heat the sun radiated over these rich and fertile lands sat the last three members of The Great House of Tyrell around a small round table.

“My contacts in King’s Landing tell me that The Young Wolf of Winterfell has succesfully laid siege over the city. It appears we are on the verge of a new era, of a new king, one of the North.” Lady Olenna informed her 2 grandchildren as she paused to gather her thoughts.

“What of our troops inside the city?” inquired Garlan with a hint of worry in his voice.

“Fortunately enough, my message to Lord Tarly reached in time and he had half the mind to command our soldiers to yield. It appears the northmen are as honorable as they say and we suffered little casualties. That however, cannot be said of the Lannisters.”

“What of them?” Asked Margaery with a morbid curiosity, as the image of the murderous and mad queen reappeared in her mind.

“Tywin’s children are all prisoners. Jaime Lannister heavily injured, but apparently he is tended to. All of them await trial.”

“Good” said the young woman in response, more to herself though. “What are we going to do next?”

“A raven should arrive later in the day from King’s landing. Robb Stark will demand us to return to King’s Landing for an audience.” Answered the Queen of Thorns and then took a bite from her lemon cake. 

“And I suppose we can’t do nothing but obey his orders?!”

Margaery could sense frustration and bitterness in her brothers words.

“Of course, my dear. He’s our king and we’re going there to pledge loyalty to him.” Olenna stoped for a second to take a sip of her tea and continued. “And to ensure our house’s future, naturally.”

“Do you really think the heir of Ned Stark is willing to take as a wife a woman who has been married thrice from a house who shifts their allegiance as they please? The Starks are not as desperate as The Lannisters, grandmother!” spoke Margaery in a neutral tone, one that didn’t imply nothing but the naked truth.

“Oh dear! You don’t think I’m going to pimp you to our possible allies like your late father did.” Responded Lady Olenna with a semi offended voice. “Besides, your brother here wouldn’t allow it. Despite our recent losses …we’ve never been better financially. And that my sweetling is due to the man sitting next to you.”

Pride could be seen glowing from the old woman’s wrinkled face as she pointed to her nephew and asked him to tell Margaery of his accomplishments beyond the narrow sea.

A couple of hours later, the three of them got up from the table heading towards the castle as the sun started to hid under the sky. Tomorrow would be a long day as House Tyrell would be headed once more to that cursed city that Margaery swore she won’t set foot again in.


	2. A Grey Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this one. There is much more to be explored and revealed. Sorry for updating this late but I had some irl business to take care of.

Robb sighed as everyone on the round table got up and prepared to leave the room dedicated for small-council meetings. The Young Wolf found these meetings rather exhausting, but nonetheless they were necessary and vital for the good of the realm. Three years ago, when his father left Winterfell to serve as Hand of The King for Robert Baratheon, Robb would not have guessed in the slightest the turn of events that was to follow; from almost dying at the hands of the Freys to conquering the North and taking it back from the hands of traitors to defeating the Lannister forces and laying siege on King’s Landing.

The memory of his mother Caitlyn, his wife Jeyne and their unborn babe still haunted him to this day. He had known for quite some time that Walder Frey was a grumpy old man, bitter because Robb refused to take one of his daughters, Roslin, as wife, yet he never entertained the idea that the Lord of the Crossing would turn out to be a traitor and would team up with the Lannisters. Rebeling was one thing, but attepting to kill a man, his family and his men at a wedding, while being under the protection of guest right was something no honorable northernman could forgive… or forget. Every now and then, in his dreams, the new king could hear the scream of his mother and the blood dripping out of his wife’s belly as she’d got stabbed multiple times. He could still see his loyal bannermen without weapons, dizzy of alcohol as they tried to defend themselves. Robb made sure that every Frey complicit in the Red Wedding had gotten what they deserved for the injustices they brought upon his family and his men, himself swinging the sword as he beheaded almost every member of that damned house. The only ones left alive were Olyvar Frey, his squire, and Roslyn Frey, Edmure Tully’s wife; as they were found innocent during an ample investigation.

While he and the few that survived recovered, Robb’s homeland had been occupied by other traitors, the Boltons, also involved with the Freys in Tywin Lannister’s machinations. It had been to his utmost surprise when the Riverlands declared him their ruler and swore him their fealty. However, nothing was more unexpected than his unlikely reunion with Sansa, the sister he by then had believed to be dead. The Young Wolf would never forgive himself for believing even for a second that she had betrayed their House in favour of Joffrey and the Lannisters. The news she had brought with her when they reunited had left him confused, even sad for a moment: the death of Lysa Arryn, their eccentric aunt, as she had been found dead by falling from The Tower of the Moon. Her death hadn’t been for nothing though as the Knights of the Vale knelt before Robb and offered their services. Even in death, his father managed to look after him; Ned’s longtime friendship with the late Lord Aryn coming to use in a most vital moment. With their help, the Riverlands, some smaller houses of the North still loyal to the Starks and brave men of The Night’s Watched let by Jon, after a long fought battle, Winterfell was reconquered… and a king was crowned, the first since Torrhen Stark.

Robb Stark had got his home back and one of his sister safe under his protection, but he had lost two brothers and nothing was known of Arya yet, while Theon Greyjoy, the murderous turncloak was nowhere to be found. The Young Wolf felt frustration and fury in his blood every time he reminded himself how he had put his trust in Theon and how he lost two brothers because of it. He only had Sansa… and Jon, his bastard half brother who served as Lord Commander of The Night’s Watch. Robb felt remoseful for everytime in their childhood when him or Sansa had treated their brother any less than he deserved for the sins of his father; Jon was and will always be a Stark, even if not in name.

Tired of everything, Robb decided to take a walk through the royal gardens, in need of some fresh air. He found the environment around him … of a rather southern nature; indeed pretty, but in an artificial way, not holding a candle in his humble opinion to the raw beauty of the North. Since his arrival, he felt rather left in awe, yet not in a good way, about the state of the city that was supposed to be the capital of the 7 kingdoms. Shit and ashes, frightened smallfolk and poverty were all he could see around him. There was much work to do and it would take a long time for the city and its people to heal from the wounds caused by the Lannisters.

One silver linning in all this was that the city was rather easy to conquer; part of the Lannister troops were away protecting Castely Rock while those left in the city where in a not-so-ready-to-fight state. What took The Young Wolf by surprise was the decision of the Tyrell’s troops in the city to not fight against his armies, but rather to yield the town peacefully. When he met with their general, Lord Randyll Tarly, he was informed soberly that these troops fought for queen Margaery of House Tyrell and that they received urgent orders from Highgarden to not oppose the invaders.

Robb felt rather odd how House Tyrell was prepared to shift their allegiance’s so soon; for what he’d known they were partners in crime with the lions. Even odder was when knights dressed in armors plated with golden roses voluntarily had helped his troops to restore peace in the city, without expecting anything return… or so he thought. At the advice of his most trusted members of the council a raven was sent to Highgarden with an invite… or rather a request of the presence of House Tyrell’s members to King’s Landing for the trial of the Lannisters and to discuss matters regarding the safety of the realm. What Robb had not decided was if there were to be any trials for the Tyrells as well and that was something he would not communicate with them by raven or horse. 

As he was lost within his thoughts, The Young Wolf felt a presence approaching him. Dressed in the finest of silks and leaving a trace of a strange southern perfume in the air, the bald eunuch Varys stood before him as he bent his body into a subtle bow.

“Your Grace, if I may have a word with you..” His voice was rather exotic and feminine, inspiring of mistrust.

“State your business, Lord Varys!” The Young Wolf replied to the spider in a cold tone, trying to analize the eunuch’s unreadable expression. 

From what he gathered about the man, if he could be called that, Varys had served as Master of Whispers for The Mad King, Robert Baraheon and later for his two sons, Joffrey and Tommen. ‘Whispers’ were a strange concept for Robb, as a blunt northern man he found these things rather teadious, for he couldn’t tell the difference between a ‘whisper’ and court gossip spread by vapid ladies.

“I wished to speak with you about the arrival of the Tyrell family.” Said the Spider wanting to continue before Robb questioned him:

“What of them? They’re to arrive later in the day. But I’m sure you already know that.” Spoke the young king with already a hint of annoyance in his voice.

After he slightly sighed, the spider continued:

“Do not underestimate them, my king. Their allegiance is only to the Iron Throne, and not to the man that sits on it. They might try to charm you and earn your graces, plead their utmost fealty, but they only serve themselves.”

“Well, Lord Varys, one could say the same about you.” Grinned the northerner at the eunuch.

“I only serve the realm, my Lord and I felt it was my duty to warn you..”

“Warn me of what? Do you take me for a babe who can’t possibly see through cheap plots and machinations?” Responded Robb irritated and fed up with the conversation.

He barely survived the Freys after walking stupidly into their trap and yet he boasts about seeing through plots.’ Thought the Spider but kept it to himself.

“I would warn you that in the last few years this country has seen plenty of kings and yet there is only one queen people remember, the most gallant and beautiful Lady Margaery, of House Tyrell, widow of the self proclaimed king Renly Baratheon and of King Joffrey and Tommen Baratheon!”

*******************************************************************

Olenna could smell the shit from five miles; a sign that they were close to entering the capital. Oh, how she dreaded that place and how she had to comeback every damn time there! An envoy of 100 armed knights traveled by horse with the 3 members of the Tyrell family for safety reasons. Margaery and Olenna traveled in a carriage while Garlan preferred to ride alongside the other knights for most of the journey. However, inheriting his grandmother’s sensibilities to nasty smells he decided to join the two ladies for the remaining time.

The heir of Highgarden took out a strangely shaped bottle hid inside the carriage that Margaery had failed to notice until then and took a small sip of it. When he caught his sister’s eyes watching him, he offered her the bottle and gave her a small grin. Intrigued, rather thirsty and in an unladylike manner, the former queen decided to try the exotic drink offered to her. As the unknown liquid went down her troath her body shivered with a queer excitement. It tasted like nothing she had ever known before; sweet, yet with a hint of bitter and very, very strong, making her heart to start pouding faster.

‘What is that?’ Asked the young beauty while liking her full lips of any drop left and handing the bottle away.

‘That, dear Marge, is something much better that any shit they’ll try and serve us when we arrive. You can get your hands on something like this only in Lys and in the most expensive wine shops in Volantis’ Explained her brother proudly.

Margaery had been left dumbfounded when she heard the stories of Garlan’s time in Essos. The man had travelled all the Free Cities and even went as far to visit Asshai-by-the-Shadow, a city of sorcerers and worshipers of the Red God. From a slave forced to fight for money to a soldier of the renowned ‘Golden Company’ to a proeminent trader and one of the biggest owner of whorehouses across Essos, mostly in Lys and Volantis, Garlan Tyrell has for sure gone a long way.

His golden eyes and slightly curled brown hair complimented the man’s handsome Tyrell features nicely. Even after living a rather lavish lifestyle for the past couple of years, Garlan had kept his body fit and strong, often giving the impression that he was a warrior or a honorable knight and not a rich businessman. In truth, Mace Tyrell’s son never particularly enjoyed fighting but the adoration that he received in return when winning was good enough compensation. Cunning, smart, handsome, wise and witty with words, his perhaps only weakness was his love for his family, or what was left of it. 

House Tyrell never had problems with money, mainly due to the fertile lands of the Reach that allowed them to trade extensively with the whole Realm. While the lions coffers of gold had emptied during Robert’s Baratheon’s reign, the roses grew strong and richer by the day; and with Margaery’s brother arrival, they would go on to grow even richer.

“My boy, there is a matter we must clarify before we arrive in King’s Landing.” Started the Queen of Thorns, before continuing with a stern look. “You are the only male heir of ours and thereby the rightful heir to Highgarden. Your departure from us ten years ago made Loras the next in line of inheritance, and after him, Margaery. By any laws of the men, Highgarden and the place as Warden of the South is yours and no one should be able to deny it. While I don’t have any reason to believe that any house of the Reach is able or willing to take our place, we must be prudent.” The old woman paused before eyeing her grand-daughter. “Sweetling, you must present yourself in mourning and heartbroken before everyone else. We mustn’t give any lord ideas to ask for your hand before we solve our issue with Garlan. The last thing we need is Lord Randyll Tarly shoving his son down our troath as a match for you, in hope he’ll gain Highgarden. ”

“I assume you wish to bring the issue of inheritance before the king?” Inquired the young woman reading Lady’s Olenna intenions.

“Yes, my dear. That, and an offer of marriage between Garlan and his Grace’s younger sister, lady Sansa Stark.”

Both Tyrell children looked at their beloved grandmother in awe. While on paper it wasn’t a bad idea at all, Margaery was somehow skeptical the Young Wolf would trade his sister easily. Would he accept to give his kin away after losing her to the South once before?

“Why do you seem so sure he’ll accept our demand? Don’t you think he’ll be weary of our intenions?”

“Of course he’d deny it if we ask him. But if it is his own sister that implores him, he will say yes; and your beloved brother will make sure she says yes by being his most charming and chivalrous self. You know the girl sweetling, she’s exactly the type to fall for knights in shiny armours.”

A perfect smile formed on Garlan’s face as he arched his lips revealing his white teeth and chuckled shortly. His grandmother’s plan seemed too good to be true and something inside him told him that if they won’t be careful, the whole farce could possibly blow up in their face.

“I’m no knight grandmother, but I’ve been part of a mummer’s show before. I don’t see why I couldn’t try to do that again.” After a few seconds he continued in a rather embarrassed tone with a question which put a smile on his sister’s face and almost made her laugh outloud. “Is she pretty?”

“Quite so. Not like Margaery, of course, but few could challenge your sister in that department.” 

“She’s rather pleasing to look at, brother and on top of that a nice girl. ” the Rose of Highgarden reassured him and offered him a warm smile.

Garlan had already realized that their stay in the capital would be an exhausting one. He stretched his arms lazily and took another sip from the bottle, trying to clear his mind. The whole idea of trying to charm a woman wouldn’t be a problem to him he thought. But he wasn’t charming any woman into his sheets, he was charming a northern lady whose brother was the king into a marriage. That would prove to be quite a challenge, but not one he planned to fail.

************************************************************************

Robb wouldn’t have minded to go greet the Tyrells himself. After all, it was a better thing to do than sit on that pointy and uncomfortable throne made of melted swords. The Young Wolf decided against it at the advice of his counselors, their reasoning being that he should keep that family in check and set the boundaries as clear as they can be set.

Just as he rearranged his seat on that bloody throne a servant entered the throne room and announced in a solemn voice:

“Your grace! Here to meet with you and to speak with you on behalf of House Tyrell are…”

“No need to talk boy!” Spoke the voice of an old woman as she wavered her hand at the poor servant in a dismissive manner. Confused and a bit scared, the young servant turned to the king who quickly nodded towards him and gave him permission to leave the room. The woman continued: “My name is Lady Olenna of House Tyrell and before me are my only grand-daughter, Lady Margaery of House Tyrell, widow of the late king Tommen, and my only grand-son, Lord Garlan of House Tyrell.”

The three of them bowed before the man they were so eager to call king and were waiting patiently for his response.

The king glanced over them and was left impressed of the trio that standing before him. The eldery woman that spoke earlier was of a small stature and had cunning small eyes. Her voice was sweet but solemn, denoting respect but at the same time pride; pride for who she was and for the house that she represented. Before her, a man slightly older than Robb himself and a young woman of his age stood to each side of their grandmother. One could easily notice that the two of them were kin by the handsome features so renowned to be a particular feat of the roses. If he had to take a guess Robb believed that even the old woman herself was a great beauty in her prime day.

Garlan Tyrell was lean, muscular and a bit taller than the Young Wolf. His curled hair shared the same colour with that of his sister’s - a beautiful brown, while his eyes were of an exotic golden. At first guess, Robb would believe him to be more of the warrior type than a noble lord if it weren’t for his fancy clothing to give away his upbringing.

His sister, the famous or rather infamous ex-queen was a sight to behold. The first feature that got the Young Wolf’s attention were her large brown eyes that seemed kind and inviting yet cunning and calculated at the same time. Her smooth umblemished skin was pale, a few shades lighter than her brother’s and her figure was slender but at the same time womanly. Her body was covered by a beautiful green dress, one that if worn by any lady of the court would seem rather dull and uninspired, but not on Margaery. The only piece of decoration the young woman wore was a black rose attached to her chest as a symbol of mourning. The girl was the vision of southern beauty in its prime and it could easily be seen why so many men fell for her charms.

Without lingering his gaze on the Rose of Highgarden more than it was appropriate the son of Eddard Stark rose from his seat and spoke with a warm voice:

“My lord, my ladies, I wish first and foremost to express my condolences. What has happened to your family and to this city is a tragedy of proportions and it shall not go unpunished.”

The four of them continued pleasantries and small talk for a while before Robb proposed them to meet tomorrow in the morning in the solar to discuss more important matters after they would all break their fast together. 

The Young Wolf was content with the course of this first encounter and was rather proud of himself and his ‘performance’. He never thought he’d be able to handle any of that southern talk with all its niceties and conventions but the Tyrells, as if anticipating his northern-man nature, appeared as sincere and concise in their words as they could.


	3. Unlikely encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olenna is visited an old "friend". Garlan takes his role seriously. Margaery meets someone unexpected in an unexpected place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in a while but I've just started back Uni and it's already freakin exhausting. Let me know what you think of this chapter in the comment section, pretty please <3 I will also , in the next chapters, post Robb's perspective more in depth.

She had a dreamless sleep that night and she felt rather odd waking up in her old chambers in the capital. It had seemed like the destiny brought her back in that wicked city yet again. She often thought of her house’s ambitions and of her own and when on the road did they start to be one and the same: being Queen. What a high ambition… yet one fiting for a highborn girl like her. After all that happened with her family the Rose of Highgarden had decided to never let her ambitions get the better of her, to never make the same mistake as her father once did.

Dressed in a light blue dress that was embroidered with golden roses above her waist up to her chest and leaving her thick and curly hair free to cover her back, Margaery had attended her grandmother and the King in breaking their fast. The food was exactly as she remembered it: tasty but way too much of everything was prepared; a meal for 4 highborn people in Kingslanding could feed almost 20 smallfolk. During their time eating everyone stood in a somewhat awkward silence focusing on their food. Stealing small glances of the Wolf King Margaery was able to notice his stiffness with all that southern food extravangaza that they were served and she wouldn’t been able to blame him; not even half of the most well behaved southern ladies that have dedicated all their lives to learn how to seat, walk and eat perfectly would’ve known how to eat all that was put on that table in the proper manner.

Noticeably missing from the fast and later on from the King’s Solar was Garlan. He had told her the previous day that he’d go visit the city but she presumed that he would do that after they’d discuss the matter of inheritance. The private meeting in the Solar took an unexpected turn – not only one of their kin was missing, but the Young Wolf had also brought one of his advisors with him, a man of small stature but with a sharp look on his face named Howland Reed, the Lord of Greywater Watch. Margaery had heard tales of the men of the Neck and how the place was a nefarious ground for strangers to wander around alone. If her grandmother was upset or shaken that both parties stood on equal ground in terms of people she did not let it show at all.

“My lord, Your Grace.” The old woman began after approaching to sit down in a chair. “We have much to discuss, but I will try to be as concise as I can.” Both the young King and the Lord nodded shortly allowing Margaery’s grandmother to continue. “Before delving into more … sensible subject matters, we come to you with a rather simple and just request.” The two men gazed expectantly and with a bit of curiosity at the old woman, waiting patiently for her to present the matter at hand. “As you both are aware of the terrible tragedy that has happened upon the capital you must be aware that our house has lost several of its most important members … including my late grandson, Loras, who was to be the heir of Highgarden.” The Young Rose heard grief in Olenna’s voice and she was sure the two men heard it too. She knew her grandmother loved all her closest kin, even Mace, but The Queen of Thorns wasn’t a woman of tears or of griefing in public, yet a bit of subtle mummery wouldn’t hurt their cause. After a short moment the Tyrell woman emptied one of her pockets and presented an old piece of paper on the table. “This document was signed a decade ago and it states that my eldest grandchild, whom you’ve seen yesterday with me and my Margaery, had renounced his birthright to his younger brother as he had left for Essos. We wish for an annulment for the act, Your Grace, to settle the matter for good.”

The northern lad’s icy stare analyzed the old woman’s words before preparing to speak.

“Forgive me, my lady, but to me it seems that you’d make a better Warden of the South than your grandson, Ser Garlan, as he doesn’t even seem to be interested to grant me with his presence to speak of the matter himself.” 

Feeling that she needs to balance things, Margaery intervened. “Your Grace, I would like to present apologies on my brother’s behalf. He had left early in the morning to see the state of the city with his own eyes.” Responded the girl uninvited but with pleading eyes. 

“Anyhow, King or not, I am not one to break The Laws of Gods and Men. I shall grant your brother his birthright, my Lady.” Said the Young Wolf trying not to gaze too much in the direction of the Rose.

The next topics of discussion would have semed rather boring to most people, but Margaery payed close attention to how Olenna negociated or rather how she did not. The Queen of Thorns was in a generous mood; she pleaded that as soon as Garlan officialy becomes Lord of Highgarden the debt that The Iron Throne had to House Tyrell would be instantly forgiven in its entirety. Not only that, but the old woman admitted her house’s guilt in seeking the Iron Throne and in allying with the Lannisters; which she said it was based on naught more than desire of seeing Margaery Queen. She agreed to pay in gold and other resources to diminuate the harm done by the Lions to the realm. 

The Rose of Highgarden would consider the two men fools if they blindly believed her grandmother wouldn’t want something in return in due time and the girl knew exactly what that something would be. She knew her part well and before the meeting would come to an end she asked with the most innocent intention in her voice:

“Your Grace, if I may be so bold to inquire, has lady Sansa come to the capital as well? I’ve only encountered her for a short time of my stay here but I would love to meet again with your sister.”

“She travels with a part of my guards on the Kingsroad. If nothing unexpected is to happen she would arrive tomorrow in the afternoon, my lady.” Responded the King in a composed but friendly voice.

 

*******************************************************************

 

There had been quite some time since Garlan has wielded a sword in combat. The man hadn’t had use of one since his time as a payed fighter in Bravoos and that was long before his objects of play became pillowgirls from Lys and cups filled with wine from Volantis. Margaery Tyrell’s brother felt a bit rusty at the beginning with the metallic object in his hands but a man would never forget so easily the art of melee combat. Luckily for him, Dark Sister wasn’t a heavy sword, as it had been specially designed for a woman, namely Queen Visenya of House Targaryen, one of the two sister-wives of Aegon the Conquerer and one of the finest warriors of her time. The legendary sword had been lost in the Blackfyre Rebellion or so it was said – that until Olenna’s grandson had recognized the object made of Valyrian Steel in a merchant shop in Pentos and had bought it for not too much gold. 

For what Garlan had in mind, the training yard in King’s Landing provided plenty of use. Luckily for the brown-haired man, most knights had other business across the city and he’d been left alone to practice quietly with his precious weapon. The last thing the Lord of Highgarden wished was to make himself look like a fool before the eyes of trained soldiers. A pair of big brown eyes were gazing over him from a safe distance watching his moves with admiration. His sister arched her lips into a smile at the sight before her, abtaining from laughing outloud. However, what made her to almost laugh were not Garlan’s rusty moves which to her anyway didn’t seem rusty at all.

“It seems someone is taking the task to charm Sansa Stark very seriously.” Spoke the girl as she entered inside the court yard.

“Well as I had nothing better to do I decided to give myself some training so I won’t look like a fool with a sword in my hand would other people be watching.”

In a mocking way Margaery replied back. “And to think that I gave my word to the King that you were visiting the city to find out more about its state and about how its people have coped with the recent disaster!”

“You wouldn’t be lying to his Grace; I did in fact visit the city and its in a worse shape that I have imagined. The wine served in these taverns is worse than Dothraki piss and there isn’t a single decent whorehouse around here. The poor women that work in this town are either payed very little or the men around here have very low standards.”

The Rose of Highgarden rolled her eyes at the words of her brother. He could very well play the role of a gallant knight all he wanted but wine and women were something it seems he hadn’t rid himself of. She’d wondered if he’d end up like the late king, Robert Baratheon but quickly dismissed the idea; Garlan was a Tyrell and like all Tyrells he cared a lot of his appearance and how other people perceive him. In the short time since they’ve reunited he’d never smelled of alcohol and as far as they’ve spoken of his time in Essos she learned he made sure to have never fathered any bastards.

The Rose of Highgarden rolled her eyes at the words of her brother. He could very well play the role of a gallant knight all he wanted but wine and women were something it seems he hadn’t rid himself of. She’d wondered if he’d end up like the late king, Robert Baratheon but quickly dismissed the idea; Garlan was a Tyrell and like all Tyrells he cared a lot of his appearance and how other people perceive him. In the short time since they’ve reunited he’d never smelled of alcohol and as far as they’ve spoken of his time in Essos she learned he made sure to have never fathered any bastards.

“Have I met the girl? Have I sworn any vows yet? Not that I would break them with any whore in this town. If I think better I should have brought one of my girls from Lys here. They are pricy and might bring most rich noblemen to ruin but at least they are more than half decent at their job.” After a short pause in which Garlan had finished the last part of his sword training, he continued speaking in an assuring voice, gazing his sisters directly with his golden eyes. “I am not going to hurt this girl you’re fond of in any way Margaery and before I make any plans about the wedding I have to either get her, her brother, who mind you is the King, or preferably both to agree.”

The Rose of Highgarden felt relieved and embraced her brother, thankful for the response she had received. He wouldn’t have to worry about the King or Sansa not agreeing, she considered. Their grandmother’s plan had no reason to fail, unless outside sources would intervene. Margaery mentally reminded herself to pray to the Gods that no one would stick their nose with regard to the forthcoming marriage, marriage that one of the two parties involved had no idea of, thing that made the girl chuckle at the whole situation. She waved her brother goodbye as she decided to walk around the city, not before he had insisted that she at least will a few Tyrell guards with her.

 

*****************************************************

 

Here she was, Lady Olenna of House Tyrell, back again in these damned tedious gardens of King’s Landing. ‘Some things never change’ she supposed. Why has she agreed to this meeting was beyond her now that she has given it more thought. A servant boy appeared with a plate of cheese and offered it to the old lady, disappearing into the gardens as he had come. While she was feasting on her cheese, the woman saw a well known siluette appear before her.

“My lady. The city has been made brighter by your presence.” Started the Spider in an almost singing voice, approaching a chair to sit.

“Lord Varys. These gardens remain as dull as ever. I’m afraid not even your presence could make them any duller... or 'brighter' than they already are. ” Fired back the old woman in a tart tongued manner before eating another piece of cheese. “Tell me again, my lord, what brings you to me?”

“My duty, of course. I gather information for the Crown, as you very well know.”

“Are you telling me that the Young Wolf has already accepted your services as Master of Whispers? He may be young but I believe he has plenty advisors to tell him better than to trust you.” Olenna was able to put two and two together and realize that Varys’s presence at court was merely indulged and not welcomed. The Spider had to prove himself useful to the Stark boy and he had to do it quickly.

“I have always served the realm, my Lady, as I will always continue to do so until my last day.” The Spider sighed shortly before continuing. “What I want to find out my lady are answers to questions that the King will soon start to be asking. It will be better for both of us if we are prepared with the best explanation when time will come.”

“Very well, Lord Varys. I have no intention into marrying my granddaughter to the King, although I believe that leaves you quite disappointed. I’ve come here at his invitation to settle matters of the realm, realm you so much pledge to serve. Ask away this old woman and she shall give you any answer she knows.” Replied Olenna mockingly and confident, as she would have nothing to hide before anyone.

“How had your grand-daughter been able to forsee the tragedy that would happen and be able to escape in time?”

“She didn’t forsee anyting. She was abducted by a stranger in the heart of the night and brought to Highgarden at once.”

“That is all you know about her resque, my lady?”

“My lord. Even if I don’t normally show it, I would let you know that you have my respect and I would never offend you by doing your job in its entirety. I consider you very capable to save your skin by connecting a few dots here and there. That, unless you want to bribe me with some sweets from Dorne like you do with your little birds which maybe may change my mind.” Smirked the Queen of Thorns at the Spider before asking a servant to bring some lemon cake.

 

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Before heading out to the orphanage, Margaery decided to go to her chambers and take with her some coin. Seeing the poor kids was an activity that was rather usual for her as Queen. At first, she did it only to gain the good graces of the smallfolk but in time the girl grew fond of the little boys and girls that lived there. As she arrived there with a few of the Tyrell soldiers as her guards,which she wisely ordered to wait for her outside, she recognized Bertha, a short and rather large woman of middle age, the main caretaker of the kids and the person who ran the orphanage taking to a man.

Only when he turned his face to see her had the young Rose realized the identity of the man. She could very well see the Stark symbol proudly on his tunic and his blue eyes staring at her with surprise. Bumping into Robb Stark here was the last thing Margaery would think to happen. Altough they have barely spoken any words of substance to each other the girl thought of him more as a fearless warrior than a doting protector of the children. Suddenly, the wheels started turning into her head and she recalled that he’d been once married and that he’d lost both his wife and his unborn child. The Red Wedding was an event that became well known in all 7 Kingdoms and even in Essos, considering that her brother was well aware of that horrific event.

“Bertha, Your Grace.” The Tyrell girl addressed them as she slightly bowed before Robb. “It brings such warmth to my heart to know that Your Majesty takes interest in even the smallest folk around here.”

“My lady, Bertha here was just telling me of your visits and I must say I’m rather impressed that some members of the former royal family actually took their time for things that most highborns would consider unimportant.” Returned Robb without a hint of condescention. If Margaery was upset at being called part of the former royal family or being lumped in with the Lannisters, she did not show it.

“You mustn’t offer me praise where there isn’t need for any, Your Grace. As a southern lady at court I would either have to practice on my needwork skills or engage in mindless court gossip. Meeting the children has rather been an escape for me.” 

Just as Margaery finished speaking a boy and a girl both of no more than one and ten rushed through the door into the young woman’s arms, hugging her tightly. By the color of their golden hair and black as night eyes one could definitely tell they were brother and sister, twins in fact. 

“Bertha! Why didn’t you tell us the Queen has arrived?” Inquired quite upset the little girl. “You now how much we love playing with her.” The large woman was filled with shame as she failed at keeping the uninvited little guests out of the chamber. However, Margaery could tell by how Bertha looked at the children that she held them close to her heart.

“Alys, Maegor, please don’t blame poor Bertha. It is entirely my fault that I haven’t made the time in the last few days to come by. And what have I told you, always call me Margaery and not by any title. ”

“Here!” said the Rose as she gifted each of them a golden coin. “Keep this safe until Bertha asks you for it to buy you new clothes. Now go play and I’ll come after you in an instant.”

“Who is he?” Pointed Maegor unknowingly towards Robb as if he were a smuggler who’d infiltrated uninvited into their home. At the boys action Bertha was almost going to faint and Robb was spotting a grin on his face.

“He is our King, Robb of House Stark.” Margaery informed them in a solemn tone as she presented the name of the man before them.

“Another?!” asked Alys surprised. “I thought we just had a new one!” sighed the girl as she left everyone but her unknowing brother speechless. “Please tell me it doesn’t mean you have to go?! Does it?”

“No, little girl. Lady Margaery is welcome to stay in the capital as long as she wishes.” Answered the Young Wolf to the small child that stood in front of his and that had left him in awe. Hearing his words, both Alys and Maegor left the adults alone smiling happily that they would get to still play with their beloved Queen.

After they were gone, a worried and scared Bertha implored the king for forgiveness promising that the kids would get any punishment that would make the King satisfied. The woman’s worry almost made Robb and Margaery to burst simultaneously into laughter but the two of them knew better than to make the woman feel more ashamed than she already was. In that moment Margaery’s eyes lingered a while on Robb, noticing how comely and handsome he was when he smiled. The Rose had reasoned that the man didn’t smile very often as he had to face at length the hardships of battle and the misfortunes of fate; all that while she was surrounded in golden roses trying to sway the will of boy kings to further advance her position. It was rather funny for once how the Gods had decided to put on the throne someone that might actually be any deserving.


End file.
